Cut, Casper
by papayabelly
Summary: AU. The life of a ghost hunter is made ten times harder when she has to spend the night house-sitting for her sorority all by herself. Halloween-themed hate-love Gray Ghost/Dark Gray. [Strong] T-rating.


A/N: Halloween themed story in July? Whaaat? Well, in an homage to one of my favorite scary movies - which is twenty years old this year - I wrote this lil GrayGhost/DarkGray AU in which Val plays the scream queen in a typical horror movie scenario...except not really because she's like a hundred times stronger and more capable? Imagine Danny and Dan as both kind of one character who in this universe is a baddie and Valerie is our trusty heroine!

.:cut, casper:.

Slaying the spectral undead was not one of the duties required of a Barbi Dickinsheet scholar, but if it was, Valerie Gray would place it somewhere between trying to pass Biophysics II and making sure her sisters didn't blow too much of their Fall budget on jello shots. Or blow. Fact was, hunting ghosts often seemed like an escape from being the treasurer of Kappa Chi Delta, the drunkest of all campus sororities and the pastel pink, chevron striped monstrosity that financed her full scholarship. Their crest had flamingos on it, for God's sake. Yet, while Valerie had hated being doormat to the bleached-blonde tyrants who had reigned over her for the first two years of college, she had to admit that her experience had mellowed out by junior year. She had secured a position of relative power: as the only one out of last year's chair candidates to have passed Accounting I, she had been the logical choice for the job, though it had been grudgingly appointed to her by the previous president.

But Valerie didn't care about the past; she only thought about the future—which was hopefully getting into psychical engineering school to follow in the footsteps of her father—and the present—which was continuing to kick lots and lots of ghost butt. Unfortunately for the immediate moment, there wasn't much butt-kicking to be done. The current prez had made her house-sitter over fall holiday since everyone else had gone home for break. It was the first time in years that the place was completely empty, and her fellow KCD's had made sure to hang up all their tacky Halloween decorations right before leaving. Thus, she was all alone in a three-story mansion, surrounded by giant frilly skulls and yards and yards of purple-bat adorned tinsel hanging from every corner.

Swiftly descending from the spiral staircase, Valerie tightened the high ponytail atop her head. She checked her watch and saw that it was 11:00 PM. A bit late for working out, but honestly what else did she have to do? Grabbing the compact from her bag, she flipped it open to briefly check her reflection. With her baby hairs gelled down and a light sheen of pink gloss on her full lips, she figured she was a bit made-up to be heading to the gym, but she didn't care. It's not like she didn't already work out every other day of the week. This time she'd maybe take it a little slower and scope out the hot guys, if there happened to be any there this late at night. She tilted the mirror down and noticed the goosebumps blooming up from her cleavage. Her white sports bra and gray shorts were molded to her body, much like her ghost-hunting suit. Not that the hyper-resistant spandex left much to the imagination, but there was still a huge difference between that outfit and the total amount of material covering her flesh at present. Valerie shivered a bit and quickly spotted her yellow hoody on the living room sofa. She walked over to pick it up, pausing a bit as she looked up at the giant smiling portrait of Barbi Dickinsheet hanging from the wall opposite her. Her overly-rouged face beamed down at Valerie, who had always thought that the late Ms. Dickensheet's beehive hairstyle was something right out of a the Bride of Frankenstein.

"Guess I shouldn't be so mean," she commented aloud, "you are the reason I don't have to pay tuition."

She smiled a bit. Then, one of Barbi's big blue eyes, framed by spidery black lashes, winked back at her.

Valerie gasped immediately, dropping her hoody out of shock. She blinked twice and stepped nearer, squinting at the painting. Up close, the surface looked as flat and lifeless in its faded colors as it always had. Despite appearing normal, she was positive she had seen something. Valerie stared at the portrait for a good minute or so, eyeing its disturbingly gleeful expression. The shrill sound of the house phone ringing snapped her out of her concentration. Turning around, she glared at the device shaking on the table, its ring as ear-splitting as a banshee's shriek. Valerie approached it warily, unsure of why she was suddenly so on edge about answering the call. She snatched up the received and held it up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hello?" a somewhat placid, male voice said.

"Yes?"

"Who is this?"

"Um, who are trying to reach?" she responded, slightly annoyed.

"What number is this?"

"What number are you trying to reach?"

"I don't know."

"Well," she said curtly, "I think you have the wrong number."

"Do I?"

"Get lost." With that, Valerie hung up. She muttered "idiot" under her breath and hoped the assholes from Lambda Phi Epsilon weren't trying to play a joke on her. Focusing back on her hoody, she was about to retrieve it when the phone rang again. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the receiver, ready to curse out whoever was on the other end.

"What?"

"Val-Val!" The high-pitched voice of Kappa Chi Delta President, Jill Zales. nearly deafened her.

"Jill?" Valerie said, reeling a little from the other girl screaming her resented nickname, "Why are you calling the house?"

"I _just_ remembered that there is a super important pre-Halloween week rager going on at Omicron Nu tonight!"

"A what?"

"You _know_ , a party to kick-off fall break and make fun of all the try-hard Freshmen costumes!"

"I've never even heard of—we've never had to go to any of those before!"

"It's a new tradition," Jill replied simply. "And since none of the sisterhood's chairs except you are currently at the mansion, _you_ should go in everyone's stead to represent KCD!"

"Excuse me?" Valerie inquired. "Why? I was just about to go work out!"

"It's like eleven o'clock," Jill said, "you're a total exercise freak anyway—what reason could you possibly have for going at this hour? To check out out the basketball players who hit the gym late at night?"

"Uh."

"Trust me, there will be _much_ hotter guys at O-Nu! Plus, you have to go."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm the president and I said so." Valerie could almost hear the tart, self-satisfied grin she was wearing as she spoke those words. "'sides…they know you're all by yourself and they're _expecting_ you."

"Jill, you can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am," she said, her tone becoming worryingly devious. "And, you have to wear a costume."

Valerie paled. "No way. I already have to wear theme costumes with you guys every year for Halloween—there's no way I'm wearing a second costume for some stupid 'pre-Halloween' frat party."

"Don't worry Val-Val, it's nothing big. This is the night to make _fun_ of all those loser underclassmen who will show up in their full-body slutty Spongebob costumes and shit, remember? You're just supposed to wear something cute and small to show your sorority pride."

"Cute and small?" she deadpanned. "Like a thong or something?"

"Oh god no—that's Thanksgiving, duh," Jill corrected. "I left you a pair of chevron-striped cat-ears on the kitchen counter."

Valerie stroked her temple, the ridiculousness of the situation spurring a migraine. "I think I would prefer being slutty Spongebob to the most basic-ass white girl costume ever."

"Hush!" her president reprimanded. "Look, I didn't wanna spend too much money on it, okay? I've been, like, budgeting just like you told me too!"

"Wow," Valerie said through gritted teeth. "I've never felt more proud."

"I know; I think I'm KCD's best president yet!" Jill said cheerily. "Now get going! The rager started like a half an hour ago—and wear a hot outfit!"

She heard a click and then the dial tone. Slamming down the phone, Valerie now wanted to unleash an entire slew of curses on Jill instead of the mystery guy who had called earlier. Releasing a heavy sigh, she trudged into the kitchen. Once there, she saw the heinously fuzzy and pink accessory waiting for her on the marble countertop. "I could honestly kill her for this," seethed Valerie, readying herself to go to a douchey frat party by herself for the first time—while wearing cat ears. She picked them up and saw KCD's crest embroidered in the left ear. Body stiffening, she slowly placed the headband on her head, not daring to take out her compact to see how stupid she looked.

The house phone rang again, making her jump. Beyond agitated, she stomped back into the living room, determined to refuse to wear a butt plug tail or whatever stupid "request" Jill had in mind for her next. Scholarship or no scholarship, she had to preserve her own dignity.

Snatching up the phone, Valerie answered, "Jill, I swear—"

"I'm sorry, I guess I dialed the wrong number."

She froze, recognizing the mystery caller from before. A few seconds of silence passed before she replied, voice smooth but tersely so, "So why did you dial it again?"

"To apologize."

"Don't apologize, just stop calling, moron."

"Wait, wait, don't hang up," the voice pleaded.

"What?" she snapped at him.

"I wanna talk to you for a second."

"Call a sex line, dick."

She placed the receiver firmly back on the base. Not five seconds passed before the phone rang again. Valerie growled as she picked it up.

"Why don't you wanna talk to me?" the voice asked.

She was now furious, and a bit unnerved by the chillingly torpid way the man spoke. "Who the hell is this?"

"You tell me your name, I'll tell you mine." There was almost a sensuality to the statement, drawled against the white noise around wherever he was calling from. She hadn't noticed how tense her shoulders had become. Valerie was gripping the receiver so hard her knuckles had turned white. Attempting to relaxing a bit, she said calmly, "I don't think so."

"I'm sure it's a nice name," he remarked. "Probably matches your voice."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, slowly walking towards the front doors of the mansion to make sure the security system was enabled.

"I don't know," the voice answered aloofly. "Can I try and guess it?"

"Guess what?"

"Your name."

"And what would be the point of that?" she inquired. Was he flirting with her? If he was, this was a really crappy way of doing it.

"It's fun. I like guessing games."

"You sound like a creep." The house was armed. She glanced at the tall windows pouring moonlight into the foyer.

"Ashley."

"Who?"

"Jessie."

She groaned, drawing the curtains. "Just stop."

"Caitlin?"

"No."

"Darn, this is hard."

Valerie swallowed forcefully. "Look, I've—"

"Okay, new game: I'll guess if you have a boyfriend or not." She paused. Okay, now he was definitely flirting with her.

"Fine," she said, unimpressed. "But you only get one guess."

"Aw," he replied, "well, I suppose I've got a one-out-of-three chance."

"One out of three?" she asked, wondering what the third answer could be.

"Yeah," he said. "Boyfriend, no boyfriend, or it's complicated."

She found herself covered in goosebumps again, but this time it wasn't because she was cold.

"Do you want to ask me out or something?" Valerie asked, now pacing around the dining area.

"Maybe. So, I'll guess: no boyfriend. Am I right?"

"Maybe."

"You never told me what your name was."

She played with the end of a wavy tendril of her black hair. "Why do you want to know my name?"

His voice was like velvet. "Because I wanna know who I'm looking at."

Outside, she could hear a heavy wind rustle the tree branches. Valerie's body went still, muscles becoming taut again. "What the hell did you say?"

"I said, I wanna know who I'm talking to," he replied with not even a split-second of hesitation.

"That is not what you said." She clicked off the light in the dining room and hurried off to do the same in foyer.

"What do you think I said?" asked the voice. Valerie slowly walked back towards the portrait of Barbi, watching it carefully. It still showed no sign of movement.

"Hello?" came the voice again. She narrowed her eyes. "I have to go."

"Wait, I thought we were gonna go out…"

"Goodbye."

" _Don't hang up_ —"

She pressed a manicured finger down hard on the END button. Rapidly, she began to dial the number for campus security. Predictably, she was cut off by the phone screen lighting up again and that infernal ring filling the house. Reluctantly, she she picked up the call.

"Listen, you asshole _—_ "

"No, _you_ listen you little sorority slut—you hang up on me again and I'll turn you inside out, _understand?_

Valerie was completely quiet. Her hand went to touch her neck and she immediately cursed herself for forgetting to put on her choker today. Without it, she couldn't transform into her suit. He took her speechlessness as a cue to continue. "…And that would be a shame, since you're _killing_ me in that bra."

His voice was a deadly rasp, and it made her chest tighten in anticipation. Her blood felt like it had gone frigid in her veins but she couldn't repress the tickling elation in her gut. "Is this your idea of a joke?" she asked him, beginning to venture upstairs.

"More of another type game, really," he replied. "Think you can handle that…"

Valerie's body felt enraptured by an icy spell that danced wickedly down the curve of her back. She shuddered when he finished his question. "…pussycat?"

Fear pumped through her, but she only hummed faintly to herself. It turned into a tiny laugh, emitted half out of terror and half out of thrill.

"Bring it on, bitch." She hung up the phone for the last time that night.

A low, dreadful wail came from the living room—Barbi's portrait. The painting's face instantly morphed into a black void, spiraling and churning until it ignited with emerald flames, a dark shapeless entity bursting forth. She barely saw it begin to trail after her before she sprinted up the rest of the staircase and down the upper hallway. _I just have to get to my crossbow._

Her bedroom was at the end of the hall, but it felt like she was running a marathon to get to it. Out of nowhere, her vision was obscured by a thick jet of water. Pipes emerged from the walls, tens of them breaking through as she ran, shooting at her from every direction. She tripped over a piece of debris and fell on her front, becoming completely drenched. As the streams slowed into trickles that fell onto the carpet, Valerie trembled as the air around her decreased by about twenty degrees. She propped herself up, turning over her shoulder to see her pursuant. Floating over her in all his demented glory was the owner of the low, velvety voice that had been threatening her over the phone. Appearing truly devilish, his red eyes glowed out of a menacing silhouette blazing with off-the-chart levels of ectoplasmic energy. He had to be over six feet, and was well-muscled to say the least. The best tri's out of any ghost she'd gone up against for sure.

The rogue gazed down at her overturned figure, white sports bra and shorts soaked so sheer that she might as well have been naked in front of him. Her rear remained tilted upwards, so round and large that he had to sigh in appreciation.

"Eyes off the ass."

He easily fazed through the vase that was flung in his direction. Smirking, he shot a green ray of energy right at her, which she dodged rapidly by rolling over. Rushing back to her feet, she began to run again, zig-zagging to avoid more energy blasts. Finally, she reached her room and shut herself inside, even though she knew that was entirely useless. She heard a feral noise from behind the door. Valerie was about to dive for her trusty weapon when the door was sucked off from the other side, dissolved by a vortex of green embers.

"That was so unnecessary," she scoffed. "You coulda just fazed through, and now I don't have a door."

Valerie expected to see his wraithlike, pallid visage sneering back at her once the flames subsided, but there was no one there. The second she took another step she felt both her wrists encircled in a vice grip so cold her fingertips became tinged with blue within moments. They were yanked back down against the small of her back, and her bosom thrust forward on reflex. Gradually, her toes lifted and her whole form levitated a few inches above the floor. A breathy, almost inaudible moan sounded from her full lips as her body became suspended by jolts of something that managed to feel frosty and white hot at the same time, coursing through her limbs.

She ground her teeth. "Mmf—let go—you fucker." She swung her head backwards.

" _Agh_ , damn it!" came a much more boyish voice than the one she had heard on the phone.

She fell back downwards when he relinquished his hold and whipped around, catching him while he was still tangible and kneeing him in the crotch.

" _God_ damn it!" He keeled over in an instant.

"Dick."

At long last, she grabbed her mechanized, chrome crossbow from under her bed. She didn't stall in firing five consecutive electric arrows point-blank at his hunched-over form. He evaded the first barrage, but the second one came lightning fast and got him straight in the chest. The rogue stumbled backwards, snarling at being hit. His aura became even more dangerous and unpredictable, like that of a wild animal thrashing about after being wounded. Valerie saw him begin to levitate all the objects around them in the room and was a bit incredulous when he blew one of its walls clear out from behind him.

"Really?" she asked, aiming at him again. "We just had this place refurbished."

"My sincerest apologies," he said, pulling the arrows out one by one. They dripped with his glowing ectoplasmic fluid. From downstairs, she heard the house phone ring again. Valerie raised an eyebrow at him.

"Not me," he replied. She frowned.

"Ugh," she said, remembering something. "it's probably the douches from O-Nu wanting to know if I'm gonna show up."

He grinned at her, bearing his fangs. "I would so be down to kill some frat guys tonight."

"Nah, you're not going anywhere."

Valerie came closer, the wind howling and whirling around them now that they were exposed to the elements. He straightened himself and floated outwards, hovering close to the jagged edge of flooring that she was sauntering towards him on, the stud in her navel glimmering under the stars as she moved. Her naturally loose curls looked magnificent as they flew about her round face and teased the sides of her strong jawline.

He cocked his head to the side. "Not that I'm complaining, but why didn't you engage your body armor?"

"I took my choker off before showering this morning and forgot to put it back on," she said, "I was kind of expecting a slow ghost-hunting day."

"A slow ghost-hunting day in October?" he tsk'd. "You're getting careless."

"Hey, I have other responsibilities, ya know! I happen to be Kappa Chi Delta's treasurer this year and it's a tough job! Plus, I've been having to house-sit all day."

"Yeah, and you did a pretty shitty job of it," he derided.

She flipped her ponytail to the side. "Excuse you! That was totally _not_ my fault. And thanks to the way you trashed the bathroom it'll take me forever to find my choker."

He grinned. "The one time in two years I decide to spy on your mansion and I don't get to see anything interesting. No pillow fights, or dildos or coke or anything. Just you all by your lonesome."

Valerie rolled her eyes. "Hazing week was last month."

"Aw man, I missed it!"

"I was joking, you idiot!" Valerie huffed at him. "You're so disgusting. You can get arrested for that kind of stuff you know. Even if you're a ghost."

"Oh come on," he said, floating nearer to her. "I was joking too. I will say that the sight of you in a sports bra and shorts is a really nice consolation."

"Uh huh," Valerie said. "Intruding on women's privacy is so gross. I should blast you into another dimension for that."

He was pushing how much he could close the distance between himself and her weapon. It was a risk he was willing to take to get up in her face a little.

"Oh yeah?" he tried her. "You _wanted_ me to do something like this."

"Uh, no?"

"Uh, yes," he retorted. "When we fought last a couple weeks ago you said I was getting boring. You said I needed to work on my villainous flair, whatever that means. So I thought you might appreciate a surprise."

His eyes flitted down to her chiseled stomach, waist small in comparison to her generous backside and wide hips, which she canted to the side. "Except that it wasn't much of a surprise," she said. "I totally knew it was you on the phone."

"You did not," he said, hands beginning to glow with ectoplasmic energy again.

"Did so," Valerie insisted confidently. "And by the way, you were wrong. I do have a boyfriend."

"Is that right?"

Her crossbow was now poised under his chin. The still damp fabric of her bra did nothing to hide her excitement, but he could only stare into her luminous green eyes. Inwardly, Valerie knew that once she was done tangling with the Phantom for the night and possibly destroying more of the mansion, she'd tell her sisters that the house had been ambushed by some rowdy escaped ghouls and she had been able to do nothing to fend them off as she was just a pathetic, weak human girl like the rest of them. It would be like the third time she'd be using that story but her sisters weren't the type to think too much into these types of situations. The university did attract a lot of poltergeists this time of year. She secretly lamented that the repairs would eat up most of the jello shot budget, but whatever—she had a scholarship to keep, damn it.

Soon the air became ice cold once again, and Valerie felt that familiar, sensual chill run rampant over her body. "Ugh," she said, voice breathy. "Why does that always happen again?"

He shrugged. "Ghostly auras cause drops in temperature and corporally enrapture humans who get caught in them."

"Right."

"Or you're just super hot for me all the time."

She glowered at him. "I'm gonna kill you."

His lustrous white hair shone in the moonlight and his fangs gleamed as he smiled that terrible smile of his. "Please Val, save that kinda talk for Valentine's Day."

.:that's a wrap!:.

?

A/N: I tried to set the story before iphones and caller ID's and all that good stuff. Totally '90s, so picture her in a Tommy sports bra and matching shorts. Not her hair tho. Def envisioned her with a high ponytail a la Rihanna.

Wrote in a hurry so I hope it's amusing for what it is. Good vibes welcome! R&R


End file.
